


Motherhood

by Bethofbells



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M, Family, Motherhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethofbells/pseuds/Bethofbells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annette Castellano knows a few things about life, and she's more than willing to impart that wisdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Title pretty much says it all :P. Please leave comments and reviews if you feel like it, they make my day. (this should be a short multi chapter 2-3 maybe)**

"I thought I'd call before the next seminar, just check in on you." The line went silent, a crackling static in his ear as he waited for her response. "Mindy?"

She still didn't answer, but he could hear the stuttering breaths she took, an attempt to tamp down the tears. Thousands of miles away and the sound of her breath catching in her throat still sent a frisson of worry fluttering through him. "Are you crying?"

"N-no." The word started on a delicate sniffle and ended on a little whine.

"Mindy." This time his voice was stern. If something was wrong he needed to know what it was. Being so far away made him feel utterly helpless. This was the very reason he'd tried to beg off attending this particular conference. He couldn't _do_ anything for her. "Tell me, please."

"Alright, fine!" She sounded a little angry, but that anger wasn't directed at him. He unconsciously let out a little relieved sigh. He could handle angry tears, especially if they were directed at someone other than himself. "It's stupid, I'm aware of that, and if you say 'that's stupid' I'm going to go to JFK and get on a airplane, and fly to California just so I can slap the hell out of you."

He waited, feeling more at ease with each angry sentence. Things were fine. "Did you watch one of those interspecies friendship videos again? You know the one with the cat and the duck makes you cry every time."

He was trying to make her laugh, a futile effort it seemed, since she merely sniffed indignantly into the phone. His voice softened. "I won't say it's stupid. I promise."

She swallowed her tears, clearing her clogged throat. "There were only two cherry sour patch kids in the bag I bought today, and normally that wouldn't be a big deal, but I was _craving_ them all day, and it was the _only_ thing I wanted when I got home, and there were just _two."_

She sounded so utterly heartbroken, he had to pull the phone away from his face so she couldn't hear the poorly stifled laughter.

"I hear you laughing. You _clearly_ don't get it, jerk!" She was crying in earnest now, blowing her nose in between little sobs. "These cravings _control_ me, Danny. It's your chubster demon spawn inside of me. All she wants is cherry sour patch kids, all day long, every day."

"Alright, alright, settle down." He spoke softly, a placating tone he'd learned to implement when there really wasn't anything he could say or do to change the situation.

She ignored him. "And the worst part is, there are a dozen lemon ones, just sitting in the bottom of the bag, _mocking_ me."

"Mindy, thats-"

"Don't you say it!"

"... totally understandable."

She laughed, pulled out of her funk. "Oh, my god, no it's not, it's totally stupid." She sighed. "You know, there's a twenty four hour bodega just down the street…" She trailed off, an idea clearly percolating.

"Don't even think about it. You're on bed rest."

"Danny, you're not my OB. Dr. Andrews said-"

He cut her off. "I always thought that guy was a quack. I saw your chart. He should have put you on bedrest, told you to cut down your sugar intake, but no, he just-" He was getting wound up, the volume of his voice elevating from it's previous soft tone.

"Danny! Ugh, enough, I won't walk to the bodega. Don't blow a fuse." She yawned into the receiver. "I'm too tired to move anyway. I need to take a nap."

"It's the middle of the day. That's why you have trouble sleeping at night."

She didn't like the Danny-knows-better tone he implemented, so she decided to go for the low blow. "I have trouble sleeping because you're not here beside me and I'm a little lonely."

"Oh." The single syllable word tumbled out on a sheepish exhalation. She smiled, fully aware that on the other end of the line Danny had a helpless grin on his face, that fool-in-love look he always got when she said something that surprised him. She held her silence, waiting for the inevitable words to follow. "I love you, Min."

He waited, in breathless anticipation. It was the same any time they spent a little time apart, as though he wasn't quite sure how she would respond, as though she might have changed her mind in his absence. She shook her head. The man was a neurotic mess sometimes. "I love you too, _Dan_. Go to your seminar and learn about natural birthing methods, so we can steal all the Deslauriers business."

"Sweet dreams."

* * *

Danny ended the call, his chest aching as he shouldered his messenger bag. There wasn't anywhere he would rather be than at home with Mindy, napping the day away cuddled up beneath her overstuffed comforter. He'd give his left leg just to splay his hand across her distended abdomen, to feel the fluttery, almost imperceptible movements of their child.

He turned to walk into the hotel conference room, taking a mere three steps before he stopped again, retrieving his phone. "Ma, uh… could you do me a favor?"

* * *

Mindy had lied, a little lie. It hurt no one really, but it was a lie nonetheless and she still felt a smidge guilty about it. Her tears had not been caused by a lack of cherry flavored candy in her life, well, not completely anyway, but it was an easy excuse to use, having cried over candy before (Twizzlers and Red Vines are _not_ the same thing, okay).

She'd been weepy all week, not having Danny constantly hovering over her, jumping slightly every time a funny look crossed her face. Something that she'd been seriously annoyed with, but it seemed she missed it when he was gone. It had been quiet. No annoyingly outdated music filtering from the bathroom in the morning. No blender whirring in the kitchen before dawn, mulching up some disgustingly healthy concoction.

She was at loose ends, not being able to go to work. While Dr. Andrews hadn't commanded bed rest, he _had_ suggested she start her maternity leave early. Puttering around the giant apartment had left her far too much time to think, or rather, overthink. The niggling doubt in the back of her mind running around in circles as she reorganized her closet by color. She had hoped the quick call would help. It hadn't.

She didn't know if she was ready for this kid. Her due date was looming, creeping closer with every day, and she still hadn't finished any of the parenting books she'd bought, a leaning stack of them on her nightstand still. The nursery was unpainted, the crib a pile of dark stained boards lying in the middle of the empty room.

But those were just things, things that Danny no doubt had a meticulously outlined schedule for completing. He'd read all the books, marked dates on the calendar hanging on the fridge, even reminded her to take her vitamins each morning. This anxiety she was feeling wasn't new. Each time the little shadows of doubt entered her mind, all she had to do to wave them away was glance over at her husband, squinting to read the newspaper, picking up her socks, giving her an appreciative glance in the mirror.

But he wasn't here, and the thoughts that had accosted her infrequently before, were coming in droves. How could she be a mom? Children were an enigma to her. Babies, sure, she understood babies. Cute little bundles of joy who cried and laughed in equal measure, cuddly little monkeys that loved you unconditionally and puked on everything. She could do that, all of her medical knowledge giving her an edge over most new moms.

The big stuff, the sex talks, the crying because of bullies, the questions about life. It all made her feel panicky. She'd barely gotten the hang of life herself, and now she was expected to guide someone else through it.

Again, normally she'd feel this tight fear in her chest, the breath catching in her throat, a stress gag coming, and she'd just look over at Danny and all of it would magically wick away, because he was there, and he could help. She didn't have to do it all alone.

But she _was_ alone, right now anyway, and it sent her thoughts spiraling to places that were hard to come back from. Danny wouldn't be here forever. He was older than her. Sure, not as old as she made out, but with his tendency toward stress, and the nasty habit of smoking that had already shaved possible years off his life, she couldn't help but envision a bleak future wherein she was a stunningly beautiful widow (she knew she looked good in black) left to raise a child all on her own. She didn't think she was strong enough for something like that.

Even contemplating trying to pull herself out of the bottomless well of grief that would be a Danny-less world made her feel impossibly small and helpless.

That's why, when the doorbell started ringing incessantly, Mindy was rolled up in her blankets. A human burrito blocking out the outside world with her fluffy shield, a few hot tears rolling down her cheeks when she got too deep into her thoughts.

Struggling to extract herself from the makeshift suit of armor, she eventually tossed the whole mess into the floor. "Morgan, I told you to leave me alone!" Her voice rang out across the living room, the irritation clear in its tone. "For the last time, the baby doesn't need a pet. Stop bringing your dogs over."

Her hand was on the doorknob, gripping it in preparation to swing it open when she remembered Danny _constantly_ admonishing her for not using the peep-hole. Pressing her face against the paneling, she gazed through the lens, the warped image staring back at her setting her teeth on edge. "Shit." The softly whispered curse puffed against the door.

"I heard that, drama queen. Let me in, I have something you want."

The distinctly accented voice would have tipped her off, even without seeing the tiny woman arching a finely plucked eyebrow toward the peephole. She sighed and swung open the door.


	2. Ch 2

**A/N: So, I think this is the last chapter, unless I get a wild hair and want to write more, or unless anyone has a suggestion as to where this might go. As always, please feel free to leave reviews, I really appreciate the wonderful people that take the time to comment every time I post something, it's an amazing thing.**

As usual, Annette immediately went for the bump, her tiny hands cradling Mindy's belly without permission, an invasion of space that grated on Mindy's nerves whenever anyone else did it, but for some reason sent a little thrill of pleasure through her when it was Annette. The tone of her voice would shift to a softly sweet whisper as she said things to her unborn grandchild. It was the only time Annette's carefully cultivated monster-in-law personality slipped, and it always made Mindy smile.

Love by osmosis. That's what she felt toward Annette. It was impossible to carry on total dislike for someone that Danny loved so absolutely, his own unconditional adoration bleeding over into her unexpectedly. Granted, the feeling she had for the little woman was _nothing_ close to what Danny felt, but there was definitely a grudging affection.

This is what she had to remind herself of when Annette withdrew abruptly and unceremoniously brushed past her, marching toward the kitchen clutching a brown paper bag, mouth already running. The usual commentary spilled out as expected. "I don't know what all this drama about candy is, but you've really got to get ahold of yourself." She huffed as she set the bag down on the counter, turning to give Mindy a pointed look. "It's just my honest and humble opinion, molded by decades of life experience and untold hardships, that _this_ ," She gestured toward the bag on the counter. "... is not worth crying over."

Mindy felt her ire rise as she stomped over to the counter, picking up the item in question. Staring down at the bagful of cherry shaped confections, Mindy felt her throat constrict. "Sour patch cherries? Danny told -"

Annette cut her off. "Yes, and again, my humble opinion is, my son coddles you far too much. You need to toughen up, grow a thicker skin, prepare for what life-"

This time it was Mindy doing the interrupting. "Alright, alright, alright, enough. I get it. I'm some impossibly delicate flower that could never have endured the hardship of the Russian winter that was your life." Mindy's shoulders slumped, for the first time feeling that maybe Annette was right. How the hell had she raised two boys by herself?

Mindy, suddenly absorbed in studying the wrinkles in the paper bag, jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder. The look Annette gave her was perplexed, her brows furrowing slightly as she took in Mindy's posture. "What's all this then?"

Mindy swiped handful of candy, popping too many in her mouth. She mumbled through lips sprinkled with sugar. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Shrugging off the concerned touch, Mindy strode into the living room dropping down onto the sofa.

"Sure, you don't, and the Pope's not Catholic either." She followed Mindy, doing her best to loom over her daughter in law, hands on hips. "What's going on?"

Mindy felt her bottom lip quivering, and hated that Annette was seeing this moment of weakness. She'd always done her best to present her strongest self to the older woman, tapping into her seemingly bottomless reservoir of self confidence whenever they interacted. They often went tit for tat when arguing and it drove Danny nuts, but Mindy secretly loved it, and she suspected Annette was far more comfortable showing her affection through grousing rather than complimenting.

She felt her lips moving, uttering the words she'd intended to keep inside. "I'm not ready. It's too much, and we don't even have the nursery ready, the crib's a pile of sticks scattered across the floor, and I can't even decide on a color for the walls."

It was a half-truth, omitting the real things causing her anxiety. Annette merely continued to stare at her in confusion. "I'm sure Danny will help you take care of those things, you two have, what, a month and a half left? That's plenty of time."

Annette had uttered the very thing that had triggered her worry to begin with. Mindy stared up at her mother in law, eyes awash in unshed tears, her teeth working away at her bottom lip furiously to keep from crying.

Shifting uncomfortably in the sight of such vulnerability, Annette finally sat down beside Mindy, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. "Alright, spit it out. What's going on in that hormone riddled brain of yours?"

"Danny, Danny, Danny. He's always here, he's always thinks of what needs to be done before it needs to be done, he's the voice of reason when things get a little insane, even though he can be crazy dramatic too on occasion. With every week that passes, I feel like I'm becoming more and more reliant on him, and while we're together it feels like a good thing, but..."

Annette clucked her tongue, rolling her eyes. "Oh, the hardship of having a loving and supportive husband. How difficult that must be." She pinched Mindy slightly. "Of course it's a good thing."

Mindy rubbed the sore spot on her arm, glaring at her mother in law. "Well, it is a good thing, duh. I know that, but, and I know this is neurotic, I can't stop thinking about the possibility of him _not_ being here."

"Danny would never leave you." Annette sat back, a sad expression now gracing her features. "That's one thing you don't have to worry about, dear."

"Maybe not, but what if he _dies?_ " Mindy couldn't stop, in spite of the frantic tone creeping into her words, the wild look in her eyes. She began to breathe a little too fast. "I can't do this alone. I can't. I know you did, but I can't. I just can't."

It's possible that she was hyperventilating, the colors around her suddenly becoming strangely vivid, the lights a little fuzzy. Annette's fingers found her chin, grabbing it roughly and yanking her face to her. "Listen, Danny is not going to die _anytime_ soon."

She attempted to shake her head no, but failed to free herself from Annette's grasp. "But what if-"

Annette shook her head. "And _if_ by some horrific twist of fate, from a God who clearly hasn't listened to a single prayer I've made for the past forty years, he does die, you'll be fine." Mindy's breaths began to slow, the glassy look in her eyes blinked away. "You'll be fine."

Annette pulled back. "I don't like complimenting you, you generally have enough hubris for a small army, so you know I mean it when I say you'll be fine. You're a strong, independent woman, and being married to my son has not changed that one bit." She sighed, eyeing Mindy's tearstained countenance. "And besides, you wouldn't be alone, not really."

"You would be here?" Mindy's voice was small, coming out in a thick whisper, totally undermining her attempt to sound confident.

Annette nodded. "And there's your family, and Richie, and even those idiots you work with. You wouldn't be alone. Okay?"

Mindy cleared her throat, realizing the utter ridiculousness of her momentary panic attack. "Okay, yes, you're right."

Annette smiled as she got up, dusting imaginary dirt off of her pants. She clapped her hands together, her grin widening as an idea struck her. "Come on, delicate flower, let's go put that crib together. We can manage, between the two of us."

Mindy followed her into the nursery, feeling immeasurably better, the weight leaning so heavily on shoulders gone for the time being.

"And then we can discuss what color this room should be. I'm thinking hunter green or maybe a mustard yellow, since you don't know the sex yet."

Mindy shuddered, the disgust rolling off of her in waves. "Absolutely not! This isn't the seventies, old lady. My child will not be subjected to such a gross color pallette."

Annette smirked, grateful for the return of their normal dynamic. "Well, you know, it's possible the kid'll be born colorblind, like his mother."

"What! I'm not colorblind."

Annette raised an eyebrow. "Really? How do you explain all those crazy outfits I've seen you wear?" The horrified expression on Mindy's face, her mouth dropped open in a shocked little O, made Annette laugh.

"How dare you? I am a fashion forward maverick, taking risks that I'm rewarded tenfold for." She gestured with the hand holding the crib instructions. Mindy shook her head, returning to the task at hand. "Alright, alright, shut up and help me find the allen wrench, whatever that is."

"You got it."


End file.
